It's Simple, Really...

While the kids and I were visiting my parents last week for a couple days, Tim checked some piddly things off his to-do list. Not that the things weren't important, just that they were quick and easy - the things you like crossing off your to-do list because it makes you look like you're working through it at an incredible pace. Can anyone else relate to that feeling?
One of the things he crossed off was hanging a clothesline for me. It's nothing fancy. Just a plain clothesline from Meijer that cost a couple bucks hung by some hooks from Home Depot that cost more or less the same amount. He strung it from the edge of our deck to a tree a few feet away. It's small but it's something.
Monday is a laundry day here. The hamper is usually overflowing from the weekend and now with summer here there tends to be more clothes changing due to bathing suits and dirty play-outside clothes separated from church clothes.
Today is sunny and there is a nice breeze so I was able to use my clothesline for the first time. The excitement! I hate doing laundry but I love hanging clothes on a line and watching them sway in the breeze. As I was hanging the first load this morning, I thought about how long it has been since I have worn clothes dried in the fresh air.
My mom still uses her clothesline that she has been using since we moved into the house when I was somewhere around the age of two or three. The lines themselves have probably been replaced, but it's basically the same. My make-shift clothesline is not as long, but that's ok - I also don't have ten acres of land.
Clotheslines are simple but they provide memories. They provide hiding places for small children behind bedsheets and towels that stretch to inches above the ground. They provide crisp clothes that at times can be uncomfortable, honestly.
A child can weave in and out of clothes flip-flapping in a warm breeze and be caught up in a dance within the swaying. Little girls love to twirl and what fun to have dance partners that twirl alongside and around her.
I can remember late summer afternoons and early evenings when a storm would suddenly be upon us. Someone would look outside and yell "The clothes!" and everyone would run out together, with one grabbing the basket on the way, and take down the clothes as quickly as possible before the rain drenched them.
I admit I have looked out our back window many times today and smiled at our clothes and towels dancing on the breeze. I don't need the noise of a television. Today I have sunshine, a breeze, clothes on a line, napping children, the sound of boats on surrounding lakes and bayous and a peaceful, content heart.
It's all very simple, really.